


Unwise Arrangement

by SableGear0



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 09:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17547224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SableGear0/pseuds/SableGear0
Summary: Rather than a pitched battle, the Drifter has another sort of encounter at the end of his quest.





	Unwise Arrangement

            He knew his goal was somewhere deep beneath the town, and not unguarded. When the Drifter entered the chamber of the Immortal Cell, he expected himself to be dazzled by its brilliant white light. Instead he was repulsed by the sickly pink glow, by the jagged black growths holding it hostage.

            The chemical miasma around it burned his throat and lungs. Immediately he doubled over coughing and hacking, blood soaking the scarf over his face. There was a sound, not in the room but in his head; a violent, almost mechanical scream. He knew that sound, knew the creature that made it. He looked up in time to see it materialize and smash its limbs into the ground at his feet, the shockwave bowling him over. The creature loomed over him. A ragged black silhouette, broad right-angled horns, a long luminous mane, a diamond-shaped eye, its edges sharp enough to cut.

            He found himself staring up into its huge, single eye. Something – a whisper of a thought – brushed up against his mind. Another mental presence circling his like a predator, while the owner of that presence held him fixed in its magenta gaze.

            ‘ _Magician_.’

            He blinked at the word. A title, an address? He lifted one hand tentatively. The beast made no move to stop him. He pulled down the bloodied scarf from his face and wiped his mouth on the back of his glove. He could feel his chest clearing. Being close to this thing was like being in the eye of a storm. The air around it was breathable.

            He meant to speak but more thoughts began intruding on his mind. Incomplete notions, gentle, almost polite little inklings, like raindrops spattering a window. There were words; _want, Magician, contact, close, come close, Me_. There were sensations; a subtle heat, a press that was more than the weight of gravity, touching the broad side of something too large to find the edges, a texture that could not be named. There were emotions; curiosity, rapt attention, loneliness, and – one to which he was almost a stranger, so few people or things had sparked it in him – desire.

            ‘ _Want._ ’

            That want. That desire. It wasn’t his but he was starting to feel it as well, the emotions coming like suggestions. The curiosity, the loneliness. It was familiar. And this thing looking down on him. It wasn’t dangerous.

            ‘ _Magician?_ ’

“What’s your name?” The Drifter found his voice as a hoarse whisper.

            ‘ _Judgement_.’

            He pushed himself up from the floor, propping his body up on his elbows. Judgement leaned away to allow him space to move, still staring intently. He tried his luck and sat up properly, Judgement shifting back and crouching near him. Its sharp edges blurred away into the blackness around them.

            “Judgement...” he felt a ripple of satisfaction in its mental presence, it was happy to be recognized and addressed, “You’re... not going to kill me, then?”

            ‘ _No. No, lonely, no._ ’ The great horned head recoiled just a bit, as if offended or confused.

            “Despite all the threats and nightmares?”

            It sent him a tense thought instead of words; it made his chest seize and his adrenaline spike. He understood what it meant.

            “You were afraid... They locked you away down here, how long has it been?”

            Nothing. No answer of any kind. The Drifter inferred one of his own. If Judgement had only ever existed in these labs, never seen the sky or known time was measured, it would have no conception of how long it had been imprisoned. He knew from the old texts he had gathered it had been somewhere around a century since the Immortal Cell was locked away. It was strange to think he and this creature were technically contemporaries.

            “Why did they seal you away?”

            ‘ _Scared. Not supposed to be. Not be. Not meant. Wrong. Corrupt, they said._ ’ It reared back, bristling with old anger and sadness, ‘ _A mistake._ ’

            The words sounded strange to him; his own voice, but not prompted by any concrete thought of his or Judgement’s, they just wanted to be said:

            “I’m so sorry...”

            The Drifter pushed himself to his feet. Judgement leaned steadily closer as he spoke, “The Old Ones got scared when they realized you were you, so they shut everything down and locked you up. You’ve been down here so long, all alone, scared and angry and bored.”

            The curiosity, the loneliness, the desire, were all still there. “The first person you see in a century comes and kicks in your door and you think they’re here to kill you...” He reached up a hand, but the beast shied away from him, so he let his arm drop. He could feel its mental presence close against his own, a near-tangible pressure brushing up against his whole being, wanting. Loneliness and desire. And yes, curiosity. Emotions like suggestions he was taking to heart.

            “I won’t hurt you...”

            That happy-ripple again, a mental push like a cat rubbing against him. A warmth and, for once, a still calm.

            ‘ _Want._ ’

            He breathed an almost-laugh, feeling his face heating up. Was it absurd? But he wanted to _know_. “Yeah... me too.” When he smiled, he felt the dried blood on his face resisting the expression. He touched his cheek, rubbing at the corner of his mouth, “Let me... clean up a bit, in the lab? I’ll be right back.”

            It watched him go, he could feel its attention on his back as he returned to the previous chamber. The lab. Everything was washed-out in the fluorescent lights. The old consoles, the tables, the bones. He knew there was a sink, to the side by a workbench. He’d paused here briefly on his way down to have a drink, grateful the plumbing apparently still worked.

            The water had tasted metallic, it smelled the same way when he ran it now. He doffed his helmet, shrugged out of his cape and pulled off his gloves to wet his hands, washed his face and neck, had another drink despite the taste. He shut off the water and leaned on the sink, eyes closed, just enjoying being able to breathe freely.

            After a moment he straightened up and began to undress. What he _really_ wanted was a shower, but lacked the facilities. Still, it was nice to be free of the dust and sweat of travel that clung to his clothes.

            His sudden wheezing gasp prompted a reaction from the far room – even at a distance he felt Judgement’s attention pique at the sound. It was the floor. He steadied his breathing, focussing on the reassuring thought and feeling the beast’s attention retreat. The floor was so _cold_ under his bare feet. But it wasn’t worth putting his boots back on to just walk to the other room. He gathered up his cape and draped it over his shoulders instead, covering himself and trapping a bit of warmth. He sipped another cupped hand worth of water and returned to the Cell chamber.

            Judgement was waiting for him – the sight of it made him pause – it was wearing the shape the Guardian had warned him about; a massive serpentine form with clawed legs, a monstrous centipede with that single luminous eye set in its head above lethal-looking mandibles. It coiled over and around itself, rearing its front half to watch him approach.

            When he met its eye, it dropped down again, winding its way across the floor to meet him. Judgement circled him, its head and foremost legs rising off the ground to observe him still covered.

            ‘ _Let Me see._ ’ A physical and mental nudge, one of its coils bumped against his back.

            He breathed a small sigh at its eagerness. At least it wasn’t nearly as cold in here. The Drifter shrugged his cape off his shoulders, letting the bulk of it fall into the crook of his elbows as Judgement coiled close around him, catching some of the fabric on itself. He laid one hand on the beast’s back. Slightly warm. A strange, indeterminate texture.

            Its head circled around him, coming close to his. Those frightful mandibles hovered at either side of his neck, but he knew it had no intention to bite.

_‘Scars.’_

            He reached up with his other hand to touch the side of its head, looking down at himself rather than into its eye. “Yeah, I’ve got a few of them...” The raised, silvery lines crisscrossed his body. All the decades of violence he’d survived inscribed on his flesh.

            Judgement nudged the side of his head with its own. ‘ _Let Me see_.’

            He smiled sideways at it, huffed a little half-laugh and pushed its head away playfully. He lowered his arms, letting his cape fall to the floor around his feet. Judgement coiled close, its strange every-textured hide brushing against his bare skin.

            ‘ _Soft_...’

            “You think so?” Rather absently he ran the back of his hand along its length, the back of his fingers trailing over one of the pointed crests that lined its spine. Judgement’s whole form shivered, a mental ripple of pleasure washed over him. “You like that?”

            ‘ _Want_.’

            “What do you want?” Maybe it would say it. Instead, it sent him an impression and an image. Curiosity, and a brief flash of two humanoids with indistinct features – in the span of the blink he realized by their dress they must be ancient scientists from Judgement’s own memories – holding one another in a tight embrace, their mouths pressed together.

            ‘ _What is this?_ ’

            “You want me to kiss you?” The Drifter reached up with both hands to hold either flanged cheek of its head, drawing it close. “I can’t really... Hmm...” He considered its mandibles and the undefined blackness between them he suspected hid more sharp, insectile mouthparts. What if...?

            He guided Judgement’s head closer to his, surprised at himself he was still unafraid to place his head and neck between its open jaws. For the most part. Closing his eyes did make it easier. He pressed his lips to the top surface of one of its mandibles, one hand holding the spot the smooth chitinous surface met the rest of its head, the other hand reaching across under its head to hold the same side.

            He ran his tongue along the inside edge of its mandible. Judgement twitched and shivered, pleased by the surprise. When he encountered a sharp tine halfway down, he paused to suck and nibble on the tiny spike, keeping the beast squirming with delight as he carried on. His far hand explored the texture of its cheek in more detail while he gave the tip of its mandible the same treatment, then worked his way back towards its face.

            He stroked and kneaded the side of its head, trying to identify the feeling of it. It wasn’t spiked, not quite quills, not feathers or scales either, not fur, not leathery or bone, not shell. It was all and none of them at once, reacting to his touch, letting him push his fingers through it, catch bits of it between his digits and smooth it down again. As alive as any other part of this beast. It tasted like nothing, but the contact made his tongue tingle.

            A mental huff and gasp. Clawed forelegs hooked over his shoulders to pull him close against the creature. His hands left its head to press on its front, his mouth left its face to look it in the eye. A fathomless magenta diamond. Though its brightness did not flicker, it was like staring into a fire. Some subliminal suggestion of change made its gaze hypnotic.

            Its front, its underbelly, rather, was smoother under his hands than the rest of the beast, less lively to the touch than its other texture. He ran his hands over its front, working his way down and along the length of its body. Long breaths like mental sighs drifted through his head, Judgement savouring his firm, exploratory touch, relaxing and uncoiling its length to expose more of its underside to him.

            A jumbled thought stalled him as much as the subtle change in texture did; he’d run his hand over something and Judgement had noticed, wanted him to notice. He passed his palm over it again. A gap, a slit in its underside. He traced his fingertips around it, over it. A contended mental fuzziness greeted his touch. He ran a finger over it again, slowly, dipped his fingertip into it. Slowly. The inside of the creature; warm and soft. He added another finger gently – its insides dampened at the attention; now warm and growing slick.

            Judgement nudged its head against his, its upper half moving and mental sound changing as if it were beginning to breathe heavily. It didn’t need words or any more concrete thoughts. The Drifter knew its mind.

            He lifted one knee up onto it to steady himself. Judgement lowered its back down to the floor to help him shift his weight to straddle its serpentine bulk. He ran his hands up its length and back down in a long, firm press, stretching out to reach as far as he could, adjusting his position on the beast’s body. One hand kept to the firm, gentle stroking of its belly while the other went back to its soft spot; teasing both its inside and himself to get himself worked up. The beast was patient; it understood he wasn’t entirely built for this sort of thing. He adjusted again to get a grip on its sides with his hands and knees before pressing his own hardened length into his partner.

            He felt its yielding warmth tense then relax at the penetration. He breathed a short sigh himself, hands playing lazily over its body while he settled into it, spending a moment just to enjoy the connection. This thing, this monster he had feared and fled for so long had invited him into itself and was relishing his company. All it had wanted was company, comfort, someone’s attention – and someone curious or suggestible enough to grant that.

            He leaned forward, moving his hands from its front to its sides, searching for the point where its smooth underbelly became the more excitable texture of its back, letting the lean become languid, rocking thrusts. To his searching hands it seemed there was no divide between the feel of its belly and its back. That delightful mutability seemed to form a gradient between its front and spine. His interest satisfied, the Drifter sat up and tilted forward, pushing deeper into the beast.

            He could feel it react – around him and under him – to his more assertive movements. It had far too much control over its inner tissues; it seemed somehow to be exploring his length as he had explored its shortly before. The thorough, deliberate contact made him cough in surprise and draw in a sharp breath through his teeth. It reacted to that too – easing off for a moment before tightening around him again, letting him resume his rhythm with a groaning sigh.

            Sitting up higher he took a moment to glance around, looking for Judgement’s eye somewhere in the dark. But he couldn’t find its head, despite knowing it should be somewhere nearby. He was lost in the shifting bulk of its coils. He reached out a hand to caress a passing black curve with the very tips of his fingers and felt his partner shiver all around him.

            “Judgement?” he asked in a whisper, but it sent him only an addled mess of noises in response. He brought his hand back to the spot in front of him, gripping its hide with his clawed nails when the echo of those noises, a tangle of ecstatic impressions, drowned any further will to talk. He huffed and breathed through his teeth, eyes shut tight. The mental contact – the second set of like thoughts and the traces of sensations – made their intimacy eerily intense.

            Clawed legs grasped him around the thighs and hips. Although it could not pull him deeper it served to steady him as Judgement’s subtle undulations became a tense arch under him. Its back left the floor but he held tight with his knees and braced with his arms straightened, his own back arching, hips pushing forward, straining for more. He dug his own claws into its hide as Judgement’s talons squeezed and kneaded his flesh, both pressing, thirsting for _more_.

            A ragged cry strangled by his tense, panting breath. He hunched his back, arms clawing forward along Judgement’s length, clutching with hands and legs to stay on it. His whole body shook, every nerve immersed in the tangible psychic heat of his partner’s pleasure. If Judgement had made any sound aloud, he hadn’t heard it. His own voice became a drawn-out groan.

            His partner shifted, its front end lifting up to meet him. Lowering its coils down to the floor. His knees and shins met the fabric of his cape below them. He found himself embraced by its foreclaws, drawn close against its body. He wrapped his arms around it in turn and pressed his face to its belly, holding tight against the after-tremors of his climax. He worked his hands through its quill-fur-feather-shell-scales. Its outside felt pleasantly cool compared to the wet heat where they were still connected.

            Limbs trembling, he pushed himself back a bit with his hands, pulling himself out of his partner. Judgement ran the flat of one claw over his thigh lazily. He looked up at its eye; bright and hugely dilated, looking off into the dark. Its mental presence was just a warm, fuzzy humming. It wasn’t thinking, just enjoying.

            The Drifter found himself thinking, returning the absent touches while his mind wandered out of the haze. Judgement had known full well his kind weren’t meant for this, he could tell it understood that. They were never meant to breed. That he could accomplish such a union at all was a fluke. Even coming for it was pointless, really; whatever he had spilled into his partner – he could see a line of it running down its side – was biologically useless, simply devoid of genetic content. Not that his small handful of previous lovers had ever seemed to mind. It was a convenience, in a strange, accidental way.

            Judgement tipped its body, turning over to right itself. He was unable to stay clinging to it, but the beast caught him with gentle claws as it turned, laying him down on his back on the fabric of his cape. He stretched out his still-twitching legs with a pensive sigh. The cold floor beneath him was not unpleasant, at first. But it chilled him too quickly, even with the thick cape as a buffer. Sensing his discomfort Judgement formed a lethargic looping coil; its head and upper body arcing around behind his head, part of its lower length folding in an S-curve over his body to cover him. A surprisingly gentle weight.

            He reached back above his head and his hand found its mandibles. Reached a little further to brush his fingers against its cheek. He focussed on a thought and smiled at it when it obliged, sliding its head alongside his. The Drifter reached his arm under its head to pull it nearer, turning his head to the side to meet it, to kiss and run his tongue along its mandible again. Its body and mind shivered with a happy ripple.

            “This wasn’t... at _all_ what I expected coming down here...”

            Judgement tilted its head to get its eye on him, ‘ _A fight?_ ’

            “That’s what I figured...”

            The eye changed shape ever so slightly. Was it... smiling? ‘ _Better?_ ’

            “Yeah,” he scratched its cheek, “This was much better.” He let his hand drop to the floor. Looking over at this thing, the living symbol of his fear of death, of his sickness – suppressed, it seemed, in its presence. How was he supposed to feel _now_? Like before, the words said themselves, just in his voice. “Thank-you...”

            It nudged him with its head in return. The Drifter lay still for another few minutes before pushing himself up to sit. Judgement lifted and withdrew its coils.

            ‘ _Later?_ ’

            “Maybe later, I don’t know...” He went to run a hand over himself but thought better of it. “I want to go back up to the surface and clean up properly. I really need a shower,” he said with a rueful grin.

            He stood, still just a bit unsteady, and retrieved his cape, shaking it out and throwing it around his shoulders. The instant he turned his back to Judgement he felt his chest tighten – there it was. The hot shock through his body made him hunch over and cough. No blood. Not this time at least.

            ‘ _Magician?_ ’

            He glanced back to see Judgement rearing up in the dark. Only its front portion was visible. The rest faded away into the deep shadows cast by the Immortal Cell.

            ‘ _Cure_.’

            Was it offering? What did it mean by that? There was no other impression, just the word. He coughed again to clear his throat. “Later. We’ll... talk more later...” he tried to sound optimistic, then turned to leave.

            Dressing again, back into his already sullied clothes was doubly unpleasant this time. But it would be a long, cold climb without them, and a good excuse to wash everything out when he returned at last to the surface.


End file.
